


54 Prompt Tumblr Requests: GW Edition

by Crown_of_Winterthorne



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crown_of_Winterthorne/pseuds/Crown_of_Winterthorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of request fills from <a href="https://crown-of-winterthorne.tumblr.com/post/142532768095/54-writing-prompts">this prompt list.</a> Each chapter title will list the pairing and prompt. Lengths vary from drabbles to ficlets. Warnings (if they apply) will be at the beginning of each chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "This is probably a bad time, but marry me?" (3x4)

****[54 Prompts](https://crown-of-winterthorne.tumblr.com/post/142532768095/54-writing-prompts)  
**#50 "This is probably a bad time, but marry me?"**  
**Pairing:** 3x4  
**Requester:** Psythia  


Missions together were rare. Une didn't like to send couples out in the field together—not since that incident with Duo and Heero on L1 three years ago. Quatre still wasn't quite sure what had happened, but it had been classified and locked behind so many layers of security that even Trowa couldn't access the reports. Duo would blush when asked before muttering something about "it's still classified" and changing the subject.

So it was surprising that Une would send Quatre and Trowa out together, but this mission in particular had called for both overt diplomacy and covert sabotage. Their specialties. It should have been easy. It shouldn't have ended with Trowa driving a getaway car while Quatre leaned out the passenger window, firing at their pursuers.

It was, however, a lot more fun.

"I've missed this," he confessed, ducking inside to reload, snapping the new magazine into his P-32* with a practiced hand. He might have spent most of his time behind a desk these days, but neither Trowa nor Rashid would let him slack off at the gun range.

Trowa smirked, not flinching as another bullet slammed into the rear window. "You've missed being shot at?"

"Yes?"

Trowa laughed, drifting the car around the corner and across three lanes of traffic. "Quatre, this might be a bad time, but marry me?"

"Really? You're finally asking me that now?" the blond huffed, secretly pleased behind his frown. He caught the sedan's gunman in the shoulder, sending his assault rifle flying out into traffic. Without more firepower himself, there wasn't much Quatre could do to stop the car itself—Trowa would have to take care of that.

"Yes, I'm asking now."

"Well, obviously yes," he slid back down into his seat. "But can we at least wait until after Une has us court-martialed?"

"Assuming we live that long?"

"Don't jinx it, please." Quatre's tone was polite, amused, even in the middle of a wild car chase.

Cutting the wheel hard to the left, Trowa slotted the car down an alley shortcut. The heavier black sedan behind them couldn't follow, would have to backtrack at the next street. Without taking his eyes off of the tight street, he snagged Quatre by his shirt and tie, pulling him close for a kiss. It was more romantic than it should have been.

The car shot out onto the street and Trowa swiftly maneuvered its battered body into the flow of traffic, ignoring the shouts and horns of the drivers he cut off. Quatre looked anxiously behind them through the splintered safety glass.

"Unjinxed and clear?"

"Seems to be," he exhaled, sinking down into the seat and leaning against Trowa's arm. There was blood there—a graze. They'd need to bandage that up soon. He smiled, giving a small laugh. "Well... At least a court-martial saves us from having to request vacation time for the honeymoon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***A.N.** The author knows very little about guns and a search for small automatic handguns offered up the Kel-Tec P-32 as an option that seemed like something Quatre might use as a (very) concealed carry. It definitely wouldn't be his preferred weapon of choice in this situation though. We don't talk about what happened to Trowa's gun.


	2. "You can't ask me to do that!" (6x2)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**#3 "You can't ask me to do that!"**  
**Pairing:** 2x6 ****  
**Requester:** claraxbarton

"You can't be serious!" Duo whined at the Preventer sitting behind the heavy mahogany desk. "You can't ask me to do that!"

"I can and I did," Zechs replied, unruffled. "I outrank you."

"You don't get to pull fucking rank on this!"

"I can pull the sex card if you prefer," he offered, leaning forward with his chin on the back of his hand. The smile crossing his face was wicked, confident, and utterly fucking unfair.

"So can I," Duo glared, putting his hands on the desk for maximum stubborn effect. "And I seem to recall that I can last a hell of a lot longer going without it than you."

"Duo," Zechs's voice was calm, like the fucker knew he was going to win. Which of course he was, but godammit, couldn't a guy pretend to have a chance?

Duo seethed. "Fine. Fine. Fuck you. Fine. I'll do it."

Zechs shook his head, still amused. Bastard. "Honestly. You'd think I just asked you to kill a kitten instead of hire a band. You'd prefer the planner's depressing chamber music all night?"

"Yeah, well. Fuck her too," he snorted, folding his arms across his chest. "I told Heero and Lena that they should just elope like we did."


	3. "I have never felt this way about anyone." (2xR)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**#45 "I have never felt this way about anyone."**  
**Pairing** : 2xR  
**Requester:** claraxbarton

It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was never supposed to be like this.

She was supposed to be with Heero. He was supposed to be with Hilde. That was just the way it was. What everyone expected. What they themselves had expected. They weren't supposed to find themselves falling in love with each other.

Ending up in bed with Relena Peacecraft was never something that Duo had imagined, even in his wildest dreams. But they had both been lonely, the objects of their affections either oblivious or uninterested, and years of pining took their toll. What was supposed to be a one-night stand turned into something more long-term, if still undefined. Unofficial.

Friends with benefits had never been the right phrase, not when Relena found herself requesting Duo as her bodyguard more and more often. Not when he popped into Sanc and Brussels "just because" and wound up staying for two weeks. They didn't even spend most of that time in her bed.

Not when he sat up on his elbow, their bodies framed by a tangle of blonde and chestnut hair, idly stroking her smiling face. Not when he found himself confessing, "I have never felt this way about anyone."

She kissed his palm. She would never force him to say it. Not when she still hadn't said it herself. "I know. Neither have I."

Duo sighed, the sound heavy in the darkness. "What are we doing, Len? We've been pretending for years that we're just marking time, waiting for something better. _Someone_."

"I think we stopped pretending a long time ago, Duo. We just haven't admitted it yet."

"Well, I'm admitting it now." He spooned her smaller body with his own, holding her tight and burying his face against the nape of her neck. "There isn't anyone better than you. Not for me, there isn't."

"Nor for me." She twined their fingers together over her heart, breathing content and safe in his arms. "I do love you. I have for years, I think."

"I know. Me too." He squeezed her hand, hesitated to say it, to make it real. Still, he wouldn't be a coward, not after they'd danced around the truth for so long. "I love you too, Lena."


	4. "Have you ever thought about... like... us?" (6x4)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**#14 "Have you ever thought about... like... us...?"**  
**Pairing** : 4x6  
**Requester** : claraxbarton

It was only natural, Quatre supposed, that they would become closer. War had made strange bedfellows of them all and peace had only made them stranger. Between Preventers and running the family business, he saw Zechs perhaps more than most of the other pilots did, save for Wufei. Heero was most often was with Relena, Duo on L2, and Trowa... Well. It was hard to know where Trowa was at any given moment these days.

But Zechs—they all preferred to use the old _nom de guerre_ , including the man himself—he saw often. At work, at parties, sometimes just by chance. It wasn't in Quatre to hold grudges and he found it somehow easy to strike up conversation with the older pilot.

He supposed that their shared experiences with the ZERO and Epyon systems and paternal legacies they couldn't live up to might have had something to do with it.

Still... The gradual attraction had been a surprise. Or maybe not, considering that Quatre did seem to have a thing for tall men in masks.

He found the courage to broach the subject at the bottom of a champagne glass at one of the many ESUN state dinners that required their attendance as Prince Milliardo and CEO Winner. They had escaped to the relative privacy of a garden balcony that was off limits to the general assemblage of nobility and colonists. Anything to get away from the social pressures of their titles. To get away from the older ladies who always seemed to have a granddaughter who would be just perfect for one of them. Sometimes one for each.

"Have you ever thought about... like... us...?" Quatre asked, pleased that he had managed to sound more thoughtful than hesitant.

"I beg your pardon?"

Quatre refused to blush. Refused to appear ruffled. He'd gotten much better at it after so many years of being the youngest man in the board room. Of being Duo's friend.

"Us," he repeated. "You know I'm not interested in any of the girls inside. I suppose I just wondered... about you. And me."

Zechs arched an elegant brow. He rarely appeared surprised but Quatre had come to recognize this brand of amusement as just another facade. "You want to know if I'm gay."

Now Quatre blushed, smiling in spite of himself. "I was trying not to be blunt. Or rude. I didn't do a very good job of it, did I?"

"Not particularly," Zechs returned the smile. "I thought you already knew."

"I've heard rumors," he admitted, ashamed that he was being rude again. Zechs had become his friend, after all, and some of the rumors were... less than palatable.

The taller blond shared his discomfort, looking away and his smile turning self-mocking before vanishing completely. Quatre hated that he had made his friend retreat behind the stoic court mask that he wore among others. He was doing that single-minded thing again, that thing that had made him a great tactician but also susceptible to ZERO's whims. He started to apologize again, to change the subject, but Zechs answered, his deep voice gone soft.

"I prefer women, but yes. There have been men. A man."

Quatre didn't press. There were some lines he wasn't willing to cross, not when he knew the answer already. Not when he had already made things awkward between them.

"I'm sorry."

Zechs shook his head, throwing back the last of his drink—he had eschewed the champagne for Crown Royal instead—and turned towards Quatre. "No."

Quatre winced at the finality in Zechs' voice. This wasn't how he had intended things to go. Not even close. "I shouldn't have—"

"No," Zechs said again. He caught Quatre's shoulder in a gentle grip. "Don't apologize."

And then he kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested, this fill has spawned a longer fic. I hope to have it finished and posted soon!


	5. "You look incredible in that." (1x2)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**#40. "You look incredible in that."**  
**Pairing** : 1x2

  
**Requester:** anonymous

Duo couldn't stop himself from staring, from circling Heero like a hungry wolf or from reaching out and tracing a line along his shoulders. He hadn't seen him in the leather before, though he'd hinted often enough. Begged, if truth be told.

The leather pants rode low on Heero's hips, fit the curve of his ass so tightly that it was obvious to even the most casual observer that there was no underwear beneath. They fit snug all the way down, to where they were tucked into ankle boots with a single chain and a short heel. His v-neck tee was as dark a shade of blue as his eyes.

"Are we going to go or are you just going to keep staring?"

"I don't know if I should let you leave the house looking like that," Duo flashed a grin that was more predatory than it was teasing. "You're pretty damn tempting."

Heero rolled his eyes even as he leaned into the ghosting touch. "I can always change. Then you won't be tempted."

"No!" Duo said, sharper than he had intended. "No. You look incredible in that."

"I wasn't fishing for compliments," he smirked, catching Duo's arms and bringing them up around his shoulders. He tucked his thumbs into the other man's belt loops, pulling their hips together. Duo's equally tight jeans didn't do anything to hide his erection. "It's pretty obvious how good you think I look."

"Same could be said for you," he rubbed against Heero, finding his body just as interested. He looked at him with eyes gone dark and heavy-lidded. "Maybe we really should stay home tonight."

"I've had tickets for three months, Duo. We're going."

Duo licked his jaw, nipping at his earlobe and purring, "I can't believe you're passing up sex for a concert. Hell, I still can't believe you wanted to go in the first place."

Heero smiled into Duo's neck, slid his hands from his hips and into his back pockets. Squeezed. "In the last seven years, short of being shot and half dead, when have I ever passed up sex with you?"

"I suppose that's a valid point..." he sighed, as if it were a burden. "Still..."

"I promise," Heero kissed his throat, then his mouth, sliding his tongue against Duo's in a slow, claiming caress, "I'll fuck you afterwards and it'll be worth the wait."

Duo smirked, kissed him quick in return. "Mm. Yeah, you will."


	6. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?" (Dx1)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**27\. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?"**  
**Pairing** : Dx1  
**Requester** : gundamwing-ellesmith  
**Warnings:** A few D/s implications.

Heero heard her approach before she slipped up beside him on the empty balcony, close enough to feel the skirts of her black dress brushing against his leg, her gloved arm against his. He didn't look at her, his gaze fixed instead on the woman below, on center stage beneath the hot spotlight and flanked by her brother on her left and new husband on her right. Her white dress was possibly more voluminous than the gown she had worn as Queen.

"She has a new shadow now," Dorothy mused, her tone less cutting than the words actually were. Heero didn't know how she really meant it, so he said nothing.

He'd been saying nothing a lot lately.

Dorothy hummed, tapping her chin with one long, elegant finger. "No... no, you were always less of a shadow. More a dog, don't you think? Kept leashed and housebroken, even after she lost interest and found... Well. _Him_."

"Dorothy." Heero had never lost the ability to project the threat of death into a single word.

It would have been useful if Dorothy had ever been afraid of him.

She giggled, dark and mischievous. Leaning in over his shoulder, she put her crimson lips against his ear. "I prefer my dogs to beg."

Heero was gratified to see Dorothy's eyes go wide when he caught her by the throat. He might have spent the better part of ten years as an ornamental, largely innocuous deterrent to those who would hurt Relena, but his skills had never withered. He was fast, strong. Her throat felt delicate beneath his hand and yet still, she wasn't afraid. Surprised, but not afraid. She even had the gall to smile.

He couldn't kill her without starting an international incident. They both knew his threat was unenforceable.

"I've never begged in my life," he reminded her. "Worse than you have tried."

"Oh, Heero," she scolded, voice calm, her breathing easy. He should have squeezed. Should have cut her off before she could finish. "No one _better_ than me has tried."

It would have been better to end it there, to leave the blonde unconscious and tucked safely away in the corner for her own security detail to find. It would have been smarter, probably safer.

Instead Heero let Dorothy knock his hand away, let her draw herself up into the tall, statuesque viper he knew her to be, and kiss him. It was deliberately chaste and yet it felt like a claim.

She smiled, lipstick somehow still perfect. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?"

He said nothing, his glare speaking volumes. Challenging, even as he allowed her to push him onto his knees. Still there was no fear in her ice blue eyes, only a victorious joy.

Heero thought he might allow it. For now.


	7. "You really… That's not exactly meant to be eaten." (1x2)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**6\. "You really… That's not exactly meant to be eaten."**  
**Pairing** : 1x2  
**Requester** : cylinanightshade

There were times when Heero was reminded that Duo didn't grow up the same way that he did. He might have been raised as an assassin and tin soldier toy, but Odin had taught him the basic social graces. The ability to fit in anywhere was imperative, and regardless of what Duo thought, sometimes being the silent loner was the better option.

Times like now, when they were stuck at yet another party that neither they nor Relena actually wanted to attend. They were on the clock, meant to be unobtrusive as they shadowed her. They certainly weren't supposed to be breaking pieces off of the impressively built-to-scale chocolate _Winged Victory of Samothrace_ on the buffet table.

Heero fought not to palm his face. "You really... That's not exactly meant to be eaten."

"Chocolate is always meant to be eaten. It's not my fault these philistines don't know that."

"I wouldn't be tossing that word around when you're the one eating chocolate feathers off of the centerpiece." Heero took a breath, tried another track. "We're supposed to be working."

"Lena's fine. She's with Zechs." Duo was dismissive, spinning out his butterfly knife to shave chocolate off of the expertly molded chiton.

"Duo."

" _What?_ I'm _hungry_ ," he snapped. "And it's your fault, so don't give me that 'Duo' bullshit."

Heero supposed that much was true. At the time, sex had been a much more appealing idea than lunch. Still...

"There's an entire buffet laid out. One that's meant to be eaten." He didn't add that it was still unprofessional for the bodyguards to be eating food meant for the actual party-goers. He'd already picked one losing battle.

Duo frowned at Heero like he was stupid. "You're kidding, right? Have you tasted this stuff?"

Heero just returned the look.

"Hopeless," Duo muttered and shoved a piece of chocolate into Heero's mouth. "There. Now we're both guilty."

Heero carved off the next piece himself.


	8. "Do you think you could just please go one day without pissing me off?" (5x2)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**30\. "Do you think you could just please go one day without pissing me off?"**  
**Pairing** : 5x2  
**Requester** : cylinanightshade  
**Warnings:** Classism and a whole lot of assumption.

It was too easy, really. Duo really couldn't help himself—it was so much fun to rile Wufei up, especially when he was allowed to get away with it. That was how he saw it, anyway. Une never wrote him up for it—that was practically approval, right?

He hadn't expected Wufei to finally blow up at him, accusing him of being disrespectful and uglier things, things that might have gotten a guy hit if not for the fact that Duo prided himself on being a lot more mature at 19 than he had been at 15. Or maybe it was all the anger-management classes Une had forced the pilots to take when they joined Preventers.

"... Do you think you could just please," Wufei pinched the bridge of his nose behind his glasses, " _please_ go one day without pissing me off? Is that too much to ask?"

Now that the tirade had wound down, Wufei's voice was soft, weary. Duo had never heard him sound like that and it was strangely more effective than the yelling.

"Fei..." He stopped himself, tried again. Nicknames weren't going to make things better right now. "Wufei. I-I'm sorry. Really, I—"

"I just don't understand why you hate me so much," Wufei sighed, resettling his glasses like a bird smoothing its feathers.

That caught Duo off-guard. He started to step forward, made an aborted attempt to put his hand on Wufei's shoulder. Ended up rubbing the back of his own neck instead. His shoes were suddenly very interesting. "I don't hate you. Why would you even think that?"

"Duo, look at my office and tell me I don't have a reason."

Maybe cling wrapping every item in Wufei's office had been a bit overboard, but it was no worse than the time he filled it to bursting with balloons. Or covered every available surface with colorful Post-it Notes.

"If I hated you, don't you think I'd do something more damaging? Like shoving old fish in your locker?" It was the wrong thing to say and Duo knew it as soon as the words left his mouth 

"So you expect me to be grateful for that? You don't pull this bullshit with Heero or Trowa, so why me? Just fucking tell me, Maxwell. Why. Me."

Duo winced. Wufei didn't usually curse. He'd yelled for a good ten minutes without doing it and now, in that exhausted tone, he was using words that normally made him arch an eyebrow and mutter "Language, Maxwell."

"Well... They'd kill me, for starters. You let me get away with it."

"Maybe I didn't want you to do something worse."

That hurt. Hurt deep. Duo didn't like thinking that Wufei expected such things of him. Didn't like this realization that his friend had never thought of himself as such. Had in fact, thought of him as just another street rat from L2, unworthy of friendship in the first place. Especially not when...

"Maybe I was afraid to get your attention any other way."

Wufei looked at him sharply. "No. No, you do _not_ get to do this. You do not get to pull a stunt like this, to pull stunts like this for the better part of three years and then stand there and tell me that this has all been some elaborate scheme to get my _goddamn_ attention!"

He was yelling again, and that made Duo feel better about yelling back. "Do you think that I would honestly come right out and tell you?! Why the fuck would I put myself on the line when you can fucking stand there and c-call me—"

He choked on the words, found himself balling his fists and ready to take a swing at Wufei after all. He'd thought himself immune to them after all these years, but apparently it was different when Wufei thought Duo legitimately hated him. The dynamics to every fight, every exchange were suddenly changed to something darker, more hateful. Worse was that it was partially his own fault, assuming that Wufei's silence was tacit agreement to his pranks and shenanigans.

"I shouldn't have said that," Wufei sank back against his plastic-wrapped desk, head hanging in shame. "You're not... you're not worthless..."

"Say it," Duo bit out, shaking with anger. "You said it before, so you can fucking say it again to apologize. Or is that beneath you too?"

Wufei looked up, straightened. Bowed. "You're not worthless, disrespectful L2 gutter trash and I know... I know better than to think that you weren't taught manners at the church. That was... uncalled for. I was angry. I am sorry."

Duo believed him. Hoped he was right to believe it.

"I'm sorry too," he whispered, not trusting his voice. "I never thought you... saw my bullshit as anything other than... bullshit."

"I thought you hated me for being..." Wufei hesitated, clearly choosing his words with care, "from a richer colony and growing up with a family. And perhaps... that you had never forgiven me for my betrayal."

"The Rebellion?" Duo frowned. "I thought you were an idiot. I was never mad at you for it."

"I tried to kill Heero."

" _I've_ tried to kill Heero," he pointed out, settling into this new, uneasy territory with a small grin. He came to stand beside Wufei, leaned his hip against the desk and folded his arms over his chest. "I'm beginning to think that Une put us into the wrong kind of group therapy when we were kids."

"We're still kids, Duo."

"We've never been kids, Wufei. Not even you."

Wufei snorted, inclining his head. "True enough, I suppose."

"So, where do we go from here?" Duo asked, feeling utterly wrung out. Wufei didn't look much better. "I'm not sure 'Hi, I'm 02, you must be 05' is appropriate at this point."

"It has its merits," Wufei gave him a small smile. "You made more of an impression on me than I was willing to admit back then."

"So I should have taken my chances and kissed you when I thought we were going to die?"

"It would have been better than thinking you hated me for the last four years."

Duo bit his lip, considering. He decided that he couldn't fuck things up worse than they already had been. Worse case, he supposed, one of them was finally going to hit the other. At least then things would be settled for good. Une would accept his resignation. Probably.

Before he could lose his nerve, Duo ducked close to Wufei, kissing him lightly. "Hi. I'm 02. Do you want to go get coffee?"

"05. Call me Fei."


	9. "I waxed the floors, grab your fluffy socks." (2x3)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**47\. "I waxed the floors, grab your fluffy socks."**  
**Pairing** : 2x3  
**Requester** : cylinanightshade  
**Bonus:** swapping "I" with "they" and make it at Preventers HQ

Trowa didn't look up from his paperwork as Duo went running by, braid flying behind him. Didn't look up as Duo skidded to a stop and backtracked, popping his head into the little office. Tried purposefully to ignore the devilish smile that always got him into trouble.

"Tro! C'mon! They waxed the cafeteria floors—grab your fluffy socks!"

One day Duo was going to stop saying things that surprised him. Trowa met his expectant look with a frown, steadfast, resolved. "I don't own a pair of fluffy socks."

And just like that, as if he'd been waiting for the moment, a pair of plush green socks still linked by a tag landed on Trowa's desk.

"Problem solved. Now move that gorgeous ass of yours."


	10. "I'm really drunk, please help me." (1x2xR)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**49\. "I'm really drunk, please help me."**  
**Pairing** : 2x1xR  
**Requester** : simulacraryn  
**Bonus:** Down to Florida 'verse

Hammocks, Relena decided, were of the devil. They were to be mistrusted at the best of times and she vowed to avoid them at all costs when Heero and tequila were involved.

Duo looked down at his lovers with amusement. "Isn't this a pretty picture."

"Shut up," she gave him a dirty look, made less effective by the fact that she was laying mostly on the ground, on top of Heero with one leg twisted up into the white cotton ropes. Her sundress was hiked up, flashing her panties, and wasn't it a lucky thing that she had even bothered. Or that Heero hadn't gotten that far. She tried to free herself, swearing when she only succeeded in tangling herself further.

Heero, for his part, remained still and flat on his back. He gave Duo a fuzzy smile, as if he were content to stay on the sand all day. "I'm really drunk. Please help me."

Sighing, Duo freed Relena's foot and helped her up. "How much have you had?"

"Less than Heero," she put a hand to her head, swaying. Duo caught her elbow, but she waved him off. After the initial rush, she was able to stand straight and brush the sand from her dress.

"Tequila?"

"Tequila," she confirmed.

Duo reached down to grip Heero by the arm and hauled him up. Heero didn't wobble, just slid his arms around Duo and leaned heavily against him. That he needed any support at all said volumes about how drunk he actually was.

"Come on," Duo shook his head. "I'll fix lunch and we'll get you sober. Ish."

In the kitchen, canvas shopping bags were still on the counter from Duo's grocery run. Relena got two bottles of water from the fridge while he settled Heero on the living room sofa.

"What am I going to do with you two?" Duo let himself be pulled down onto the sofa, Heero's arms going around his waist. He had always been something of a cuddly drink, which they were all thankful for.

Relena gave Heero one of the bottles of water and sat down next to him."Take advantage of us?"

"Ha. Last time I tried that, Heero fell asleep in the middle of it."

He paused in drinking his water to give them an even look. "I'm not that drunk."

"Mm-hmm. You'll forgive me if I don't believe that."

Relena slid behind Heero, holding him around the shoulders as Duo extracted himself from their embraces. She kissed Heero's hair and smiled at Duo.

"Lunch first. Then we'll see if we can't keep Heero awake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The full-length "Down to Florida" fic this drabble is based on can be found [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6322294) Be aware of the Explicit Rating, as it is almost 9,500 words of pure smut.


	11. "Why are you crying?" (Dx1)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**31\. "Why are you crying?"**  
**Pairing** : Dx1  
**Requester** : gundamwing-ellesmith  
**Warnings:** Bondage, D/s elements. Nothing Explicit.

Heero Yuy was a work of art.

He'd always been pretty, Dorothy mused, but now that they were all older, Heero had become much more. Artists of centuries past would have clamored for him to be their muse. He'd grown into himself, less the waif-soldier and more the finely muscled athlete. His presence made up for his lack of height, filling the room with the intensity of his dark blue eyes. The angles of his face had become knife-sharp, softened only by his full, plush lips.

Lips that were, at the moment, held in a tight, displeased line.

She rose from her chaise, smoothing down her silk sheath dress, and approached him with the reverence she might have normally reserved for an uncaged wolf.

But Heero was her dog and he was bound. Bound in word, bound in deed. Bound in leather straps that kept him kneeling naked on the floor.

He looked up at her, watching her carefully. Defiantly, as ever.

Dorothy circled him, admired the play of muscles in his back, the way he fisted his hands as though he meant to test the strength of his bonds. Breaking them was against the rules but it wasn't in him to submit without resisting.

Sinking down in front of him, the movement well-perfected and her body balanced neatly on her expensive shoes, Dorothy laid her hand over Heero's chest. She felt the steady pulse of his heartbeat beneath her palm, imagined that she could feel the very soul of him restrained only by his own willpower. It was something that she had yet to touch.

A part of her thought he might break if she did. Once she would have wanted him broken, to scatter him like so many lost toy soldiers before. Now she thought he might be more precious to her as he was, proud and arrogant and beautiful.

His voice, when it came, was soft. Wondering. "Why are you crying?"

She touched her cheek, surprised to find wetness there. "I didn't realize I was."

"Dorothy," Heero leaned forward, flicking his hair out of his eyes with a shake of his head so that he could see her better. His resistance and irritation had faded into concern, something as unexpected as the tears upon her face.

Dorothy pushed him back into position with a single fingertip. She smiled, the warmth melting the ice of her eyes and turning them a brighter blue.

"I always cry in front of beautiful works of art."


	12. "What, you scared I'll kick your ass again?" (6x9)

**54 Prompt requests**  
**22\. "What, you scared I'll kick your ass again?"**  
**Pairing** : 6x9  
**Requester** : angel-no-crux

Their first meeting was not auspicious. It could be called, in fact, a flat out disaster. Zechs did not consider it one of his shining moments, losing his temper the way that he did after finding himself flat on his back on the practice mats with the raven-haired girl standing over him. Their peers had been stunned, but worst of all had been Treize. Treize, who watched the impromptu match with that damnable little smile on his face and then had the audacity to praise Noin and critique Zechs in front of the loosely assembled group of cadets.

Noin, for her part, never seemed to hold the outburst against him. It had been the same sort of sexist, classist comments that led her to challenge him in the first place, after all. She did, however, have the most frustrating way of bringing it up every so often like it was an inside joke. Even now, at sixteen, Zechs wasn't sure if he wanted to kill her or kiss her. The competitiveness between then had grown into a grudging respect that when tangled with hormones brought up a new kind of tension that was frustrating to say the least. Neither of them were any good at flirting and they often ended up fighting or making awkward excuses.

It was inevitable that she tried to provoke him into a challenge again, the same way that she had taunted him into that initial sparring match on the barracks yard. They same way that she always did because he always fell for it, no matter what the challenge was.

"I am not doing this again," Zechs said stiffly. He was determined not to lose his temper again. That had been his downfall nearly every time they sparred, and as Treize had so helpfully pointed out, unbecoming of a Specials officer.

"What, you scared I'll kick your ass again?" For a girl of noble birth, Noin sometimes had the mouth of a soldier. They were alone in the mobile suit hangar, surrounded by Leos and the newer Aries that Noin preferred. Her voice echoed in the vast space.

"Why would I be afraid?" Zechs asked. "I'm the better pilot. I always have been."

"Like hell you are," she snorted. "You think that because you're Treize's favor—"

"I think it because I am," he faced her, still unused to the mask and the way it narrowed his vision. "I'm better than you because you consistently try to be second. I don't need you to make me look good, Noin."

"Oh, you arrogant—what the fuck makes you think I'm trying to make you look good?!" It wasn't unusual to see her angry. They both had tempers; Noin was just better at using hers to an advantage. It was unusual to see her controlled by that anger.

"Because otherwise you'd be better. And you're not." His next words were stupid, hurtful, and he knew it before he could say them, yet he forged ahead. When he channeled his anger into this cold veneer, he could be cruel. "You're too busy being in love with me to really challenge me on the field."

Noin's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. She slapped him hard enough to rock his head back and Zechs felt strangely gratified until he saw the tears she was holding back.

"Of course I love you, you idiot."

Zechs felt like he'd been slapped again. What had just happened here?

"I never challenge you on the field because I'm too busy trying to protect you," she glared up at him. "You need someone to watch your back. There's no one else who could do it but me."

"I don't need protection." He was proud of himself for not snapping at her. This whole conversation had shifted around to something he wasn't quite sure how to handle.

"Don't you?" Noin didn't back down from him and he saw her swallowing her anger. Saw the sadness there too. "It seems to me that you need all of the loyalty and protection you can get. Milliardo."

Zechs winced. "Noin..."

"How can I fight at your side if I'm not at least your equal?" she asked softly. "How am I going to protect you if I'm not better than you?"

Noin made two aborted attempts before reaching up to touch Zechs' face, lightly running her fingers over the mark she'd made. He stayed still, tensing as she traced the edge of his mask. She'd seen his face every day for years, but he'd never been more aware of the extra layers of defense that the mask gave him until now.

"Is it really... Is it such a weakness for me to love you?"

"We're soldiers," he reminded her. "It's weakness to love anyone."

"Why? Why can't it make me stronger... to want to be there for you? Or anyone else."

Zechs found that he didn't like the idea of Noin wanting to protect anyone else. He didn't want to be coddled, held back from battle as the heir to a broken kingdom, but he supposed... if it were Noin...

"I'm not worthy of it," he turned away, started to leave. She caught his sleeve, gripped his hand and he was surprised at how well their callused palms and fingers fit together. As if they were always meant for this. She was resolute, as ever.

"I think you are."


End file.
